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KICKAPOO 

The Fighting Bronco 




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Suddenly Old Red sniffed the wind 






















KICKAPOO 

The Fighting Bionco 


M.' and C. W. Gauss 

>\ 

Co-Author and Artist of 

BOOK OF THE WOODS 
BANG OF THE DIAMOND TAIL and 
FIRECRACKER , THE WILD BRONCO 



ALBERTSfWH 1TMAN 

4co 

CHICAGO 

1938 




Copyright, 1938, by 
ALBERT WHITMAN & COMPANY 








I T began to grow dark over the mesa where the 
cattle strayed. 

Kickapoo, the fighting bronco, was eating the 
grass near a bunch of calves. He was a small, spotted 
cow pony, and in the dusk he looked as if he had on a 
calico coat. One of his flanks was marked with the 
brand XYZ to show that he belonged to the XYZ 
cattle ranch. 

The calves were eating grass, too. With them was 
one big cow, who just stood, chewing her cud. Her 
name was Old Red. The other mother cows had gone 
to the river to drink. They trusted Old Red to take 
care of their calves. 


5 


Suddenly Old Red sniffed the wind. Her eyes grew 
wild with fright, and she muttered to the calves as if 
to say, “Come right here to me!” Her own twin babies 
got between her legs. The other calves came close 
around her. 

The wind carried the scent of coyotes. From be¬ 
hind a rock a pair of sharp eyes appeared, then a nose 
with a hump on it. Broken Nose silently watched 
every move of the XYZ calves. Five other coyotes 
squatted around him behind the rock. 

Old Red felt helpless and worried. Alone, she could 
not take care of so many calves. So she started to low 
for help, “Moo, moo,” and the calves helped her. They 
said, “Ma-aa, ma-aa!” 

Old Red looked toward the river, hoping the other 
mothers would come, but there was no sign of them. 
She mooed louder, hoping the cowboys were near, 
but no cowboys heard her. 











Kickapoo went straight for Broken Nose 






















The pack of coyotes began to move closer. They 
thought a tender, fat calf would make a fine supper 
for them. 

Kickapoo stuck up his ears and looked around to 
see what had frightened Old Red. He also sniffed the 
wind. Then he saw the pack of sneaking coyotes. 

Perhaps he recognized Broken Nose. They had met 
once before when Broken Nose had tried to bite 
Kickapoo. Quick as lightning Kickapoo had kicked 
with his hind feet and had broken the coyote’s nose. 
That is why he was called Broken Nose. 

Now Kickapoo laid back his ears and ran to help 
the cow. He went straight for Broken Nose, who 
knew very well what a fighting bronco can do with 
his sharp hoofs. The coyote gave a shrill cry, 
“Ye-o-ow!” It must have meant, “Run for your 
lives!” because every coyote in the pack ran away 
like the wind. 

A full moon rose over the mesa. In its soft light 
nothing could be seen except grass and flowers, an 
old red cow taking care of some calves, and a lone 
cow pony. Soon the other mother cows returned. 
Then Old Red had her turn to go for a drink, and 
Kickapoo went back to his supper. 

The next day there was a show, called a rodeo, at 


8 


the XYZ ranch. Cowboys from all the neighboring 
ranches came to show their skill in riding and cattle 
roping. Kickapoo and his master, Cowboy Buster, 
and a boy named Pete were there. Pete wanted to 
be a cowboy, but he had no horse. He thought Kick¬ 
apoo the finest cow pony in the world. 

Other people admired Kickapoo, too. He had won 
many prizes at rodeos, and once his picture had been 
in a newspaper. People came to look at so fine a 
horse. His master, Cowboy Buster, often said that he 
would not sell Kickapoo at any price. 

When it was time for the rodeo to start, Buster 
said to Pete, “You may ride Kickapoo to the corral 
if he will let you.” Pete was delighted. He got up 
into Buster’s saddle and rode proudly to the fenced- 
in place where the cowboys were ready to have their 
show. 

Pete seated himself on the fence just as a judge 
shouted, “The first event will be steer roping. The 
cowboy who ropes and ties a steer in the shortest time 
wins a prize.” 

Cowboy Twister was first to try. He mounted his 
own white pony and sat waiting while the men turned 
a bucking steer into the corral. The steer ran, and 
when he got to a certain line, the judge looked at his 


9 



watch and waved a red flag. Then Twister went after 
the steer. As soon as he could, he threw his lariat 
around the steer’s hind leg and made the animal fall 
down. Then he jumped off his pony and quickly tied 
the steer’s feet. 

“Twister roped the steer in forty seconds,” an¬ 
nounced the judge. 

Then Twister rode his pony out of the corral. As 
he passed Buster, he said, “I don’t think you can 
beat that, Buster.” 

“I’m going to try,” Buster answered grinning. 
“You did quite well, but Kickapoo is a mighty fine 
cow horse and I think I can beat you.” 

After several other cowboys had shown what they 
could do, the judge called for Buster on Kickapoo. 
The men let another big steer into the corral. With 
head down and back arched, it bucked down the field. 
The red flag waved. Immediately Kickapoo’s swift 
hoofs sent up little clouds of dust as he carried Buster 
toward the steer. 


10 

















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Pete thought Kickapoo the finest cow pony in the world 























Kickapoo was smart. When Buster had roped the 
steer, the cow pony stood still with his hoofs planted 
firmly on the ground and held the rope tight so that 
the steer could not get up. That gave Buster a good 
chance to tie the steer’s feet quickly. Finished, he 
stood up and waved his hat around; it was a very 
large one, called a ten-gallon hat. 

“Buster on Kickapoo .... twenty-one seconds!” 
shouted the judge. “Buster wins the prize.” 

The judge tied a blue ribbon on Kickapoo’s mane; 
it looked just like a hair ribbon. Kickapoo tried to 
shake it off. He would rather fight coyotes than show 
off. 

The next event was bulldogging. This is a hard 
trick for both man and horse. It is a way of throw¬ 
ing a steer to the ground. A cowboy rides his pony 
up close to the steer, so close that the cowboy can 
grab hold of the steer’s horns and slide to the ground 
close to the steer’s neck. Digging his heels into the 
ground, the cowboy firmly twists the steer’s horns, 
which, if he is successful, throws the steer to the 
ground. 

Buster and Kickapoo tried for the bulldogging 
prize. The cowboys turned a very big, wild steer into 
the corral. Plunging and kicking, the steer tried to 


12 



get away. A man called a hazer rode his pony be¬ 
side the steer to keep him going straight while Buster 
came near on Kickapoo. 

Just as Buster reached for the horns, the steer 
made a great leap sideways. Buster missed; he hit 
the ground with a thud and rolled in the dust. The 
steer turned quickly, as fast as the eye could see, and 
rushed for Kickapoo. In his mad rush he stepped on 
Buster. Then he tripped Kickapoo so that the pony 
fell into the fence, with the steer on top of him. 

The steer kicked and bellowed. Kickapoo screamed 
to show that he was hurt. The air was filled with 
dust, in which horse and steer seemed all mixed up 
together. 

While Buster lay still on the ground, Twister and 
another cowboy ran to help. They threw ropes around 
the steer and dragged him out of the corral. Others 
ran to see what they could do for Buster. 


13 




Pete jumped down from his place on the fence and 
ran to Kickapoo. One of the cow pony’s shoulders had 
been cut deeply by the steer’s long horns. Pete 
washed off the dirt and blood and led him out of the 
corral. 

A few days later Twister and Pete and Cowboy 
Buster, with Kickapoo near as always, were together 
at the ranch again. Cowboy Buster had been badly 
hurt, and Kickapoo limped when he walked. He did 
not look like a fine horse any more. 

“The doctor says that I can’t rope steers any 
more,” Buster said sadly. “If I can’t rope steers, I 
can’t be a cowboy. And if I can’t be a cowboy, I 
might as well leave this country right now. My uncle 
has wanted me to come home and work in his store. 
Now I suppose I might as well do it.” 

“What will you do with Kickapoo?” asked Twister. 


14 





“I hate to part with that horse,” answered Buster, 
“but I can’t take him with me. I’ll have to sell him.” 

Kickapoo heard his name and nickered to his mas¬ 
ter. He did not know that Buster was talking of leav¬ 
ing him. 

“Nobody will buy him now,” said Twister. “He’s 
lame.” 

“That’s true,” agreed Buster. “Maybe I’ll have to 
give him away.” 

“Oh, give him to me,” quickly spoke up Pete. 

Buster knew how much Pete wanted a horse of his 
own and that he liked Kickapoo. 

“Will you be good to him?” asked Buster. 

“Oh, yes, I certainly will,” replied Pete. 

“Then you may have him.” 

Buster patted his pony good-by, and Pete led 
Kickapoo to his new home. 


15 




Pete’s father was not a cattleman; he was a nester. 
This means that he had only a small farm in the cattle 
country. 

When Pete reached home, he shouted, “Daddy, I 
have a horse!” And then he told how Buster had given 
him Kickapoo. 

“But what will we feed him?” asked Pete’s father. 
“The grasshoppers ate all our corn this summer. We 
really haven’t enough food for our mule, and he works 
for us. That horse is lame; he can’t work.” 

Pete knew that he had forgotten how little food 
there was at his house. 

“I know he’s lame,” said Pete quietly, “but Kicka¬ 
poo was a mighty fine horse, and he’ll get better. I 
wanted him for my horse, and I thought he and I 
could work together. But if we can’t feed him, I’ll 
have to take him back to Buster.” 

Disappointed, Pete took Kickapoo back to the 
XYZ ranch in the morning. There the boss of the 
ranch told Pete that Buster had already gone home. 
Pete explained why he was there with Kickapoo and 
finished by asking, “Can Kickapoo go in with your 
horses, then, sir?” 

The boss of the XYZ looked Kickapoo all over. 
Then, shaking his head, he said, “This bronco is lame. 


16 



He can’t work. All of my horses must work. He 
can’t go in with them.” 

“But Kickapoo hasn’t any other place to go,” said 
Pete. 

“Turn him out on the mesa and he’ll find his own 
food,” answered the boss, already walking away. 

Pete didn’t like to do that, but he didn’t know 
what else to do. So he and Kickapoo walked slowly 
to the mesa, and there Pete let the pony go free. 

Kickapoo wandered out on the mesa, stopping 
for a bite of grass here and there, wherever he found 
it. At first he wondered where all the other cow 
ponies were and why his master did not come for him. 
Part of the time he was glad that instead of working, 
he could just stand still and let the sun warm his sore 
shoulder. The rest of the time he was busy hunting 
enough to eat. 

The grass was short and poor; grasshoppers had 
eaten nearly all of it. When Kickapoo walked, 
swarms of the long brown insects rose from the 


17 











ground on whirring wings. Each day there seemed to 
be less to eat. After a time Kickapoo had to work all 
day and part of the night to keep from being hungry. 
Hollows began to show in his sides which had always 
been fat and sleek. 

The weather became hot and dry, and dust-storms 
began. The wind blew all day long, sucking up from 
the ground little whirlpools of sand that joined with 
clouds of dust to darken the air. It was hard to 
breathe, and Kickapoo held his eyes nearly shut be¬ 
cause of the dirt in the air. Hungry and thirsty, he 
wandered from one spot to another, hunting for shel¬ 
ter that was not there. 

Finally there was so much sand on the grass that 
if cattle ate it, they grew sick. The cowboys said, 
“Let’s drive our cattle nearer home; then they can eat 
hay at the feed lots.” 

A day or two later Kickapoo heard a great rum¬ 
bling noise coming closer and closer. Through the 


18 










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He wandered from one spot to another 














dust he could see the herd coming in. The cowboys 
came riding with their lariat ropes, driving the cattle 
before them. 

Kickapoo whinnied for joy. He thought he could 
go home with the cattle, where Buster would welcome 
him and give him shelter and a good supper. He did 
not know his master had gone away. As fast as he 
could, he limped across the mesa and joined the herd. 

“What is that lame horse doing in with our calves?” 
shouted a cowboy. No one knew; so he cut Kickapoo 
out from the herd and drove him away. 

Kickapoo went and stood in an arroyo, trying to 
hide from the dust-laden wind. An arroyo is the dry 
bed of a stream and usually has high sides. After a 
time he climbed out and wandered on alone in the di¬ 
rection of the ranch. 

The next morning Kickapoo found himself stand¬ 
ing outside the fence at the feed lots. He knew well 
that cow ponies were inside there, eating hay. Kicka¬ 
poo whinnied and whinnied. He thought the men 
could not hear him, for no one came to open the gate. 
Finally he strayed away to the chuck wagon. 

A chuck wagon is a kind of trailer where the cook 
bakes flapjacks and cooks meat for the cowboys. 
Kickapoo smelled at the ground, trying to find some- 


20 


thing to eat. But he found only a scrap or two before 
the cook chased him away. Alone on the mesa again, 
Kickapoo wondered why there seemed to be no place 
for him. Always before he had been admired more 
than any of the other cow ponies. 

All day long the sand blew and blew. Its sharp 
grains cut Kickapoo’s hide and made it sore. There 
was no shelter from the wind and the stinging sand. 
Kickapoo was very hungry, for no sensible horse 
would eat grass that was full of sand. 

He was very thirsty, too. There was a little water 
in the big river, but he did not want to go there be¬ 
cause coyotes lived near it. Kickapoo knew that he 
might not be the winner in a fight now that he was 
lame. 

In the late afternoon Kickapoo could stand his 
thirst no longer. He went to the river and drank and 
drank, all the time keeping a watchful eye on coyote 
town. That was a flat place with large holes in the 
ground where the coyotes slept in the daytime. 

While Kickapoo was drinking, a small gray coyote 
came out. She did not see the cow pony on account 
of the dust; she could not smell him because the wind 
blew the wrong way. Soon three more coyotes came 
out. They came together and sang their evening song. 


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21 





They sang so loudly they must have thought their 
music was sweet. But Kickapoo did not like it. He 
thought it was the worst noise he ever had heard. 
He stood wild-eyed and trembling, afraid to come up 
from the river. Then he saw the shadowy shape of a 
very large, old coyote. Broken Nose, himself, had 
come out of his den. 

Kickapoo was so frightened that he climbed the 
bank of the river and ran away. He ought to have 
known better, for now Broken Nose could see that he 
was lame, and a smart coyote knows that a lame horse 
is most likely a poor fighter. 

It grew dark. The night was black, for dust hid the 
moon, and the wind roared across the mesa. Kickapoo 
felt lonely and afraid. In the darkness he heard 
Broken Nose calling to his band. It sounded as if he 
were telling every other coyote to come and find the 
prize bronco who could not fight any more. 












Broken Nose himself had come out of his den 



























Kickapoo went and poked his nose between two 
rocks and waited there. 

The howling and yelping coyotes came nearer. 
Soon they were right at Kickapoo’s heels. One baby 
coyote who was not very smart, tried to nip Kicka¬ 
poo’s left hind leg. Kickapoo swiftly gave a kick that 
made the young coyote roll over backwards. Then it 
yelped for its mother to come. 

That made the other coyotes afraid of the cow 
pony’s hind legs. They squatted on the mesa and 
talked things over in their own way. Broken Nose 
had a plan. He sneaked around and bit Kickapoo in 
the side. Kickapoo jerked his nose from between the 
rocks. That was just what the coyotes wanted, for it 
gave them a chance to surround him. 

Kickapoo was a good fighter still. Days of rest had 
helped to heal his shoulder, and he did not limp 
nearly so much. Now he kicked and kicked and at the 
first opportunity, ran right through the pack of coy¬ 
otes and started across the mesa. Far away a light 
made a dim yellow glow through the dust; so he ran 
that way. 

Across the mesa he came to the fence in front of 
a small house. Two large police dogs rushed out. 
When the coyotes heard those fierce voices, each one 


24 


ran away quickly. In one minute all was quiet, with 
not a coyote in sight. 

Kickapoo did not know that he had happened to 
reach Pete’s house. He did not even know that he 
was really Pete’s horse. But the place seemed friend¬ 
ly, and he thought he would stay around there. 

In the morning Pete was much surprised to find 
Kickapoo standing at his front gate. 

“Hello, old fellow,” called Pete. “How did you get 
here? You look hungry. I’ll see what I can find.” 

Pete ran into the house and a moment later he 
and his sister Helen returned with a pan of dry carrot 
peelings. 

“This is all we have,” said Pete, as he held the pan 
while Kickapoo ate. 

The carrot skins tasted very good, but after eating 
them the pony was still hungry. Pete wondered if just 
once he could give him a little of the mule’s food. 

“I don’t think so,” Helen said. “Our mule has to 
work. It wouldn’t be fair to take his breakfast and 
give it to your horse.” 

Pete had an idea. “Farmers are hauling sugar beets 
to the factory,” he said. “If we could get to the big 
cement highway, we might find some beets dropped 
from the trucks.” 


25 


Helen agreed. “That’s a long walk,” she said. “I 
will get us a lunch to take along while you put a bri¬ 
dle on your horse.” 

“All right,” replied Pete. “I won’t ride him because 
he’s so hungry. I’ll lead him, and you and I can 
walk.” 

So the three of them started on their way. As they 
were going along, they met the boss of the Diamond 
Tail Ranch. 

“Good morning,” said the boss. 

Pete shook hands with the man, then he said eag¬ 
erly, “I should like to have a job herding calves for 
you. I wouldn’t lose any, for I have a horse to help 
me.” 

The boss looked at Kickapoo. “Is that lame horse 
yours? Well, I don’t think he could herd calves.” 

Pete and Helen walked on, leading Kickapoo. 
Pete said, “If I could get a job, I could buy feed for 
my horse.” 


26 










“Nobody will hire you with that lame horse,” dis¬ 
couraged Helen. 

When they came to the highway at last, Kickapoo 
sniffed along the road. He could smell where sugar 
beets and ears of corn had fallen, but they had 
already been picked up by steers that had arrived 
first. Pete and Helen and Kickapoo walked along the 
highway for almost a mile before they admitted that 
it was no use; there was no food to be found for poor 
Kickapoo. 

As they turned around and started back home, 
Pete and Helen decided that it would be shorter to 
cut across a corner of the mesa than to follow 
the road the long way. And that is what they did. 
After going a short way, Helen said, “Let’s stop here 
and rest while we eat our lunch.” They had corn- 
bread with molasses and an apple apiece. It didn’t 
seem right for them to eat while Kickapoo went hun¬ 
gry; so they gave the spotted bronco half their corn- 


27 



bread and the two apple cores. Kickapoo swallowed 
his share in a hurry. Then they started on their way. 

It was midafternoon when dark clouds appeared 
near the horizon and approached swiftly. The air 
looked gray, as if it were going to rain, but instead of 
feeling soft and wet, it was dry and harsh and almost 
suffocating. 

“It’s another dust storm!” cried Helen. 

“Hang onto my arm so that we can’t lose each 
other,” ordered Pete, “and let’s hurry. The road can’t 
be far now.” 

They held their handkerchiefs up to their faces in 
order to keep the sand out of their noses and throats. 
For some time they struggled together against the 
wind and dirt. The dust was so thick they could not 
see far. At last, when they felt they surely should be 
at the road, they came instead to a bunch of big 
calves. These were very wild and ran away down an 
arroyo. 

“Oh,” gasped Helen. “We must have gotten turned 
around somehow. We’re lost!” 

One of the calves had run very close by Pete, and 
he had seen that its flank was branded with a dia¬ 
mond and a tail. 

“Not lost yet,” said Pete, trying to be cheerful. 


28 


“Those calves are Diamond-tailers. We must be near 
Diamond Tail Ranch.” 

With lowered heads they went on, the cow pony 
close behind. Each hoped that Pete was right. 

Soon Pete cried, “There’s a wall just ahead. It 
looks like an old hay barn.” 

And it was. Pete felt with his hands until he found 
the door. Then he and Helen went inside and pulled 
Kickapoo after them. There they waited for the storm 
to blow over. 

When the sun went down, the wind stopped blow¬ 
ing, leaving a thin fog of dust over the mesa. 

“Now we can start for home again,” said Pete to 
Helen. But almost before he finished speaking, from 
outside they heard the calls of half-grown calves, 
“Maa-maa.” And Kickapoo heard the dreadful yell 
that was the hunting cry of his old enemy, Broken 
Nose. At once the fighting bronco snorted and blew 
bubbles, and his eyes looked like fire. 

Pete threw open the door of the hay barn. Quickly 
he jumped onto Kickapoo’s back and rode the cow 
pony out upon the mesa. He saw the bunch of Dia¬ 
mond Tail calves running, with the coyotes after 
them. Broken Nose was trying to scare the calves and 
then tire them out. He kept them running around in 


29 


a circle. They bawled and bawled, but the Diamond 
Tail cowboys were too far away to hear them. 

The fighting bronco was still lame, but he knew 
how to round up calves. He had done that hundreds 
of times with Buster. Now, with Pete on his back, he 
went between the calves and the coyotes. Then he 
made the calves get close together, so that he could 
drive them. Pete shouted and drove the coyotes 
away. This was fun for Kickapoo; he liked roundups. 

Together, Pete and the cow pony drove the calves 
to the Diamond Tail Ranch. There a great many cow 
ponies were having a fine supper of hay and com. 
Kickapoo had worked hard and was very, very 
hungry. 

A man was watching the horses. 

“Good evening, sir,” Pete called. “Are these your 
calves?” 

“Those calves have been lost for a week,” answered 
the man, who, Pete now saw, was the boss of the 
ranch. “We thought the coyotes had gotten them.” 
He called a cowboy to take care of the calves; then he 
looked at Kickapoo and at Pete. “Are you the boy 
who asked me for a job this morning?” 

“Yes, sir,” Pete replied. 

“Well,” said the boss, “you did good work, bring- 


30 



Kic\apoo had a fine supper of hay and corn 


i 













































ing those calves home. I think I will hire you. I can 
pay you a dollar a week.” 

“Oh, thank you,” cried Pete. “I’ll work hard, but 
my horse will have to work even harder. He’s hun¬ 
gry. We haven’t enough to feed him at my house.” 

“Your horse can stay here, if you like,” the boss off¬ 
ered, “and he can have all that he wants to eat.” 

Following the boss, Pete led Kickapoo to a shed 
where he had a fine supper of hay and corn. Then 
Pete went back to the hay barn for Helen, and they 
hurried home to tell the news of Pete’s job. 

Early the next morning Pete and Kickapoo began 
to work. Their job was to round up calves. Pete saved 
the money he earned and bought a saddle. Then he 
was a real cowboy. 

Kickapoo grew fat and strong and, after a time, 
limped hardly at all. He was a good worker again. 
There was one thing he could not do; he could not take 
part in rodeos. But he did not mind that at all. He 
did not care about having his picture in the news¬ 
paper, nor did he like to wear a blue ribbon on his 
mane. Certainly he did not like to have a fierce steer 
run a long horn into his shoulder. 

Kickapoo was happy once more. He did like to have 
a master and a job. 


32 






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